A hero does the right thing at the right time. A hero acts when it really counts. He walks into the middle of chaos and emerges having saved others. T...ey might be terrified during the entire ordeal, but they still do the right thing. That is the true nature of heroism.The heroic act is not flashy. There are no great scenes before the act in which the hero gives a speech about doing the right thing. There isn’t a sound track that plays in the background. When things go crazy, the hero walks into. She looked as hot as she fucked herself. I knew she was nearing orgasm, her breathing was becoming ragged, and I moved in and pulled her right tit out of her gown. As my tongue hit her nipple an orgasm ripped through her. Her knees buckled as she fell into my arms as she quivered all over. We moved over to the bed, I eased her back onto the bed, and pulled her legs up, bending down on the floor beneath her, I spread her tight little pussy lips apart, my tongue ran over her clit, and down to. It dribbled down like hot lava scorching her skin with the heat of his passion. Soon her whole chest and belly were covered in algebra teacher cum and she ran her fingers through the sticky stuff like it was a gift sent to decorate her skin with millions of little sperm searching for safe harbor. She already had a full load deep in her vagina so she was full satisfied with the additional load on the outside.The taste of the Professor's ass was in her mouth and she inhaled his male scent like it. The hug went on for the tiniest fraction of a moment too long and I pulled away gently. She allowed me to back away, but stopped me just long enough to kiss me gently and very fleetingly on the lips. “What was that for?” I asked. She smiled widely and shrugged. “I don’t know,” she said with a playful smile. We went back to washing the car, but my mind was not exactly on my task. Instead, I was thinking about the kiss my older sister had given me. The strange, wonderful feeling of our breasts.